


Red Beans and Rice for the Soul

by Sheofthelongshanks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A brand-new Plot Bun, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beginning has non-graphic child abuse and subsequent removal from abusive household, British Magical Community, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Harry's adopted, International magical community, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape Friendship, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-07 16:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17369666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheofthelongshanks/pseuds/Sheofthelongshanks
Summary: If Harry could pick the best day in his life, it would be when he left the Dursley's for good.In Which, Harry gets a competent guardian and a loving parental figure. Who doesn't really like people trying to put Harry in danger.





	1. The Drop Spindle of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya, folks. 
> 
> I present you with a story of how Harry actually grew up happy, and hope I do my new Plot Bun justice. The aim of this is to entertain and enjoy.

If Harry could pick a day that was the best day ever, he would say it was the day he left the Dursleys for good.

Living at the Dursley's was unpleasant at the very least. His cousin was always treated right, but Harry himself wasn't. That particular morning he had done some unexplicable thing, again, and was punished for it. Harshly, and with impunity. Harry had learned not to try and justify that it wasn't him. He was more bewildered, and ached as he made his way to school. He went to class, and did his best to learn what he could. He sometimes couldn't see the board, and that time it was severe enough that his teacher kept him inside for the morning recess to go over the problems again. His glasses weren't working as they had a couple of months ago.

Harry was fond of his teacher, Mr. Hogkins, because he didn't comment on Harry hiding in the classroom to avoid his cousin and his gang. He only sat at his desk, sorting through things, and occasionally answered questions. He was also a firm believer in reading, and let Harry borrow any book he chose from the shelf to read. The fairy tales, to his then five-year-old mind, were the very best. But there wouldn't be any reading that day.

"Harry," said Mr. Hogkins, "I know you can figure this out. You got it right in the homework I gave out yesterday."

"Yessir." Harry mumbled, eyes on the floor. He didn't want to disappoint his kind teacher. "I did, but I couldn't see the board today."

Harry had told this to his teacher last year, and she had only scoffed. That year, he didn't get punished for good grades. But instead of scoffing, Mr. Hogkins gave Harry an odd look. "Is there something wrong with your glasses?"

Harry had shrugged, then immediately winced when the motion made his shoulder twinge. Mr. Hogkins had made a weird sort of sighing noise, and got out a paper and scribbled down something. He then got out a blank piece and helped Harry with the problem on the board from earlier, but Harry noticed that he seemed angry. Angry adults never were good, so Harry did his work meekly. After the maths problem was done, Mr. Hogkins let Harry take a book and curl up on a beanbag in the corner like always and left. Harry had been puzzled, but had not thought about it.

During the last part of the day, Harry was called into the head teacher's office. He was certain, at that point, that he'd done something wrong. But instead he had been invited in and given a piece of candy.

"What did I do?" Harry had asked, feeling miserable. The head teacher was scary, especially then. The head teacher sighed, fingers massaging her temples. "The staff and I feel that you aren't safe at your current residence." At this, she gave him a concerned look. "Do you feel safe at your home, Harry?"

Harry felt like this was a tricky question. Of course, he lived under the threat of starvation and physical punishment, but he'd never been put in danger before. Had he? "I really don't know."

The head teacher resumed her temple massage, and Harry could feel her frustration. "Have you ever been harmed, while living with the Dursleys? Have they hurt you, in any way, shape, or form?" Harry would only realize later that the head teacher's voice was fragile sounding. But right then, his head was buzzing and his body throbbed, begging him to say something, but his throat felt too tight to actually say.

He nodded, and then things happened. 

He came back to school the next day, and a police officer and a lady called a therapist asked him questions, like the head teacher had. He answered as truthfully as he could, and went home after the day was done. He didn't think much of it, at first. Mr. Hogkins had kept Harry inside after Dudley and his gang got ahold of him during the morning recess. Harry was grateful, especially after Mr. Hogkins had shared half of his sandwich for lunch with him.

At the end of the week, Harry went to leave for home and instead was introduced to a middle-aged woman named Mrs. Beasly. She was in charge of St. Christopher's Home for Children. Harry would be going with her instead of going to the Dursleys.

"Why?" Harry had asked. Not that he was complaining, but the last few days had been trying.

"You're not safe where you have been living." The head teacher explained. "We reported it, and the Dursleys have been deemed unable to care for you. So Mrs. Beasly offered to take you in to live in St. Christopher's indefinitely."

Harry considered pinching his arm to see if this was a dream, but that could be done later, preferably with food in his stomach and somewhere to sleep.

And so began Harry's life in St. Christopher's Home for Children. He switched schools, which made him sad that Mr. Hogkins wouldn't be his teacher anymore. But he could write letters, he got three meals a day, and his new bed was reasonably comfortable. He also made a few acquaintances with the other kids in the home, and they in turn actually included him in their games and stories. Things seemed much better indeed. 

Harry's favorite pasttime, when not in school, was playing outside. Animals tended to like him, and it wasn't odd to find him with a couple of mice in his pocket or a bird perched on his shoulder. The other kids were entranced by the fact Harry could do this, but Harry felt uneasy. It felt too much like this little bit of weirdness could get him beat and locked away. But none of the other kids in the orphanage said anything. They only 'ooh'ed and 'aww'ed at the creatures he could call to his hands. Never did any of the animals talk back, but Harry was fine with that. 

Until Harry found a garden snake in the park one day, and it slithered into his hands.

"Hi!" Whispered Harry, scratching the little snake with his thumbnail.

To Harry's suprise, the little snake answered. _Hello, young one._

"You can speak?" Harry whispered back, amazed. Never did any animals he charmed talk back before!

 _Of course,_ The garden snake said haughtily. _All animals speak. We communicate as you do, just with our own tongues._

"Makes sense." Harry said. "But never have they talked to me. Pardon me, but do you have a name?"

Soon, Harry often stopped by the park to talk to Scillia, which was the closest he could get to her name. She didn't mind, and he told her about school, books, and things he learned about snakes. She often gave him little tidbits of tales she heard from other snakes. He continued like this for the rest of the school year, and for the first time in his short life Harry was happy.

* * *

Harry, now at St. Christopher's Home for Children, was idly reading a book on his bed. It was about all these stories about Ancient Greece, with monsters and heroes and gods. Harry liked it, and he was just reading about Homer's voyage to return home when the other kids began to crowd into the ground floor living room. Curious to what was happening, Harry marks his place and heads out to see what is going on. He follows the other kids down the stairs, and is amazed at what he finds.

A woman is standing in the middle of the crowd of children, handing out clothes from a big cardboard box. Harry watches as similar bundles are handed out, and the woman presses one in his hands. Harry only gets a glimpse of dark brown eyes before she's turning around to hand out hand out more clothes. Harry unfolds it to find his new uniform for the next school year, complete with five pairs of socks and gym clothes. The woman is rifling through the box again as Mrs. Beasley is getting everyone situated with their bundles. Harry experimentally rubs the cloth of his uniform shirt between his fingers, and marvels at the texture. It's so soft, and comfy! 

Harry quickly looks at the back of it, and sees a small shimmer travel up the fabric. He blinks, confused, but the shimmer is gone when he looks closer. What was that?

"Harry?"

He looks up, and Mrs. Beasley and the woman are standing apart from the gaggle of children, and Harry gets a good look at the other adult. She's not particularly tall, Harry notes. But her skin is a creamy light brown that glows with health, and her dress is greenish colored. She lacks the careworn lines that Mrs. Beasley has on her forehead, and her hair is the same brown-black as her eyes and is really long. It's also really thick, and Harry sees that the shorter pieces around her face curl almost like one of the other kid's hair, almost like a corkscrew.

"Yes, Mrs. Beasly?" Harry asks.

Mrs Beasly smiles, and gestures to the woman, "This is Miss Nausika Peridot. She runs Spinner's Spindle, and has been gracious enough to make you all uniforms for the coming school year."

"Now, now," The woman says, her smile wry. She speaks funny, but in a pleasant way, "I only do what I can, with what fabric I have."

Harry brightens. "You made all of this? That's a lot of clothes!"

Miss Peridot chuckles. "Of course, that's what I do. Makin' sure everybody's got what they need for clothes. Do you like your new uniform?"

Harry nods. "It's shimmery, and it feels nice!"

Both of the ladies chuckle, and Miss Peridot pulls another bundle of clothes from behind her back. Harry can see jeans, shirts, and more socks and underwear; he's growing out of his old ones, so it's nice to actually get something that isn't ill-fitting and formerly Dudley's. He also sees small shimmers within these, but it seems centered on the seams instead of on the entire cloth.

"Are these really for me?" Harry asks, as he attempts to balance his current burden. She still has the other bundle.

"Yep." She says, "Mrs. Beasly said you didn't have much, so I finished up some of these for you."

Harry looks at his armful of clothes, and back at the neatly folded clothes in this kind woman's arms. It was strange to have someone just give him things just because he needed them, but it was a good strange. "Can I go put these away, Mrs. Beasly?"

Mrs. Beasly nodded, and Harry rushed up the stairs, to his drawers next to his bed. He carefully put away the new uniform, then rushed to take the ones that Nausika was holding in her hands. He put those away as carefully as his uniform, knowing that they would have to last him a long time. He went back down the stairs, remembering one important thing. He finds Miss Peridot in the middle of talking with Mrs. Beasly.

"Thank you, Miss Peridot!" Harry calls, now just remembering his book he abandoned.

Miss Peridot smiles. "You're very welcome, and enjoy yourself!"

Harry grins and goes back to his book, right where he left off.

Odysseus has just washed up on the Phaeacian shore...

* * *

Harry is restless that summer, and he read all the books he could stand; so he spent a good amount of time outside. London and its surrounding areas are big with interesting nooks and crannies, revealing streets and places Harry wouldn't know had existed if he hadn't gone exploring. Some he only glanced in, others he walked through. He always felt uncomfortable when people paid attention to him, but no one seems to during his walks. Some days, he caught the train and went where every he pleased. But there is still an empty feeling within.

One day, he ends up in Barnet, one of the boroughs of London. He finds lots of parks, more than a few libraries, and a wonderful market with more things than he could dream. He wanders around, feeling more liberated than ever, and finds himself on a street lined with shops. They almost all are foreign-looking, including signs in a multitude of languages. Harry had never seen anything like this, so he decides to take a look before he sneaks on the train back to St. Christopher's. Most of the businesses have clothes and furniture, but one window in particular caught Harry'e eye. It had a dress and an evening suit that looked very striking. Out of curiousity, Harry peeks at the shop sign, and saw a familiar group of words:

_Spinner's Spindle  
Crafters of Fine Fabrics and Clothes_

Harry, without thinking much about it, pushed his way into the shop. He didn't forget that Mrs. Beasly said Miss Peridot was in charge of the shop, and she had been nice to him, giving him new clothes when Mrs. Beasly only mentioned it. Maybe she wouldn't mind him saying hello?

The door made a chiming sound when Harry pushes open, and watches a young man trying to balance several bolts of cloth as he walked behind the counter. "Will be with you in a mo'!"

Harry closed the door, taking in the sight of the shop. There was a padded bench with a back, facing into the shop. A counter with an old-fashioned register guards a door; to where, Harry doesn't know. One wall was covered in an expansive mirrior, with several stools and a magnetic strip of hooks hanging from the mirror. Long tape measures and a knotted cord hung from the hooks. The opposite wall holds two paper posters, one showing a man and another showing a woman, and many more depicting current fashion trends and past ones. He walks forward to take a closer look, and finds out that the fashion drawings are laminated to prevent tearing. The designs themselves look almost real.

"May I help you?" 

Harry turns around quickly to see the man from earlier. He's wearing a gray apron, and jeans. 

"Does Miss Peridot work here?" Harry asks, feeling slightly foolish. "I wanted to say hello before I went back to St. Christopher's."

The man nods. "She's the owner, and I can go see if she's too busy." At this, the man motions to the door, gesturing Harry to follow. They go back there, and Harry finds an almost different world.

The back room is bigger. Several large shelves run along one wall, with bolts of different fabrics and loads of spooled thread in many colors. Harry also sees spools of silky ribbon, and a large counter where two other employees are deftly cutting up fabric. A long table is in the middle, with fabric laying flat on its surface. Two odd machines are on a table along the wall that separates the back room and the front. The back wall has a door and a large wooden frame that is making peculiar noises, at which Harry sees a familiar person sitting there.

"Miss Peridot!" Harry exclaims. Miss Peridot doesn't turn, but Harry can see that her hands are moving very fast. He looks at the man, and he escorts Harry closer. 

The frame moves, making another clunking sound, and Miss Peridot flicks an oblong objuect between the threads. Harry watches it go to the other side, and the frame clunks again. Miss Peridot slows down, and finally stops. She turns around, and Harry catches a brief look of suprise on her face before she is smiling. "Harry!" She says. "What are you doing here?"

Harry shrugs. "I was exploring, and came to say hello before I went back." He scrunches his face. "It's rude to not say hello, right, Miss Peridot?"

Miss Peridot laughs. "It might be, yep. And you can call me Nausika, hon." she smiled, and Harry felt glad that he came here. 

"I'm glad you decided to stop by, in that case." She says, nodding to her employees. "It about the end of the day, and we were just about done here. Do you need me to take you back to the station?"

Harry is taken aback. After he began to do his exploring, Mrs. Beasly had said it was okay if he wanders. Provided he gets back by curfew. But sneaking onto a train takes time. 

"Yes?" Harry says. "But if you're busy, I can get back by myself."

Nausika shakes her head. "It ain't any trouble at all, Harry. You were nice enough to come talk to me, after all. Helping you is the least I can do." She hangs up her apron, and motions Harry to follow her out of the back of the shop and onto the back street. The other employees call out their good-byes, and Harry rushes after her, determined to keep up. Nausika, he notices, slows down so he doesn't have to jog to keep up. 

"So, how've you been since I saw you?" She asks.

"Pretty good," Harry chirps. "I read about someone named Odysseus."

Nausika grins. "Heh, I remember that one. What did you think?"

"He took a really long time to get home." Harry replies.

She chuckles. "The magic in that story is different; that's for sure."

Harry finds out a lot about Nausika on that walk to train station. She reads a lot about Greek mythology, too. Her mum was from Greece originally, before she met her father and they moved to America. Her name comes from the Odysseus story, except with a _k_ instead of the _c_ and with only one _a_. Harry briefly wonders about where his name comes from, but he shrugs it off. He tells her about his explorations through London, of Scillia the snake, and how animals like him. Even snakes, and they are some of the most reserved members of the animal kingdom. Harry asks her if there's any myths about snakes in Greek mythology.

She snorts. "Not ones that are fit for children, Harry."

"But snakes are cool!" Harry protests. "Anything like snakes in stories are always evil, and it's wrong!"

"There are more terrible critters out there, that's for sure." Nausika says. Before Harry can ask for her to explain, they are at the ticket barrier. She pays for his ticket, despite his protests, and they go to wait on the platform. The summer night air is cool, and Harry enjoys it.

Nausika shivers slightly. "I'm never gonna get used to how cold England is."

"How come?" Harry asks. Nice weather is nice no matter where you go.

"I'm used to way warmer places." She explains. "The bayous are warmer during the night than during the day here."

Harry wrinkles his nose. "That sounds nasty."

"To each their own,"

The train arrives son after that, and he wonders about something as she presses the ticket into his hands.

"Miss Peridot?"

She looks back. "Yes, Harry?"

"Can I come visit you again?"

She seems surprised, but then she gives him a happy smile that shows off very white teeth.

"Of course!" She calls out, as the train moves away. "Just call before you arrive!"

Harry calls back, but the wind from the moving train swallows his words. But he can definitely see that smile with his eyes closed.

* * *

Nausika is busy every weekday in her shop, but Harry decides to go to see her every Sunday. Saturday is a day Harry thinks she would want to herself, instead of talking to a young kid. But she doesn't seem to mind, as long as Harry calls ahead. He does that anyway, because he's heard Mrs. Beasly say that it's rude to drop by unannounced. He doesn't want to ever be rude, especially not to Nausika. His visits with her are always fun, informative, and Mrs. Beasly is always encouraging him to go see her. 

They often go for walks, seeing what other things can be found in the district. They eat lunch, often packed, under park trees or up on a wall. Harry favorite pasttime becomes people watching, and they have lots of fun just making up stories about people that walk by. Harry often theorizes on pets.

"Why would she have a dog?" Nausika asks about one of the ladies they see shopping. "She looks like she'd have a cat, or maybe a parakeet."

"She looks more like a dog person." Harry says, shrugging. "I dunno."

Nausika gives him one of those looks that Harry secretly called her joking face. She looks serious, except her eyes are twinkling with silent laughter and her mouth is turned up slightly. It never fails to make him giggle.

Another thing that Harry finds out is that Nausika is incredibly observant. She teaches him about how to find clothes that are well made, but cheap. She also shows him how to bargain with shopowners, and how to tell if the establishment is even open to it. If it has specific prices, it's likely you can't bargain. She teaches him how to spot how things are overpriced. This is something Harry tries to hold on to, because he feels like it's really important, but there is only so much he can learn at one time. She also tells him stories about growing up in America. The country is so big, you can't travel from one end to the other in one day. There are some many different people and places, with their own accepted ways of doing things. Instead of sports like cricket, they play baseball, which is incredibly popular over there. Football is different there than in England, and involves tackling people and avoiding being tackled. 

"I like the one we have here." Harry says.

She nods. "I don't blame you. I don't like being squished either."

"Do you miss it?" Harry asks, wondering if this a polite question to ask.

"I do, but I don't at the same time." Nausika replies, her expression relaxed. "It's always going to be home, but I have over here too." She grins. "Besides, I like the shop and my flat very much. I get to try making a home away from home."

Harry ponders this, wondering what it would be like to be home, but know one was always welcome somewhere else. He feels like it would be nice to have, but he doesn't know how he'll ever get to have that feeling. Maybe he would never get to have that kind of thing. But he didn't feel sad, because he couldn't really find himself missing anything. He was fed and people cared about him, so that was enough for now. 

During one visit, she took him along shopping. She neglected to go do it on Saturday, so she asked him if he was fine with going. Harry said he was, and they had lots of fun trying to find the vegetables and fruits that she wanted. The greengrocer paled when he saw Nausika, and soon she had a bag full of lettuce, carrots, peppers, and other things Harry doesn't even know the name of. It all manages to fit in the bag she brought, which is good. Harry doesn't know if he can even carry that stuff. Then they stop by the butcher's, and then they stop by the open air market to see what other things they can find.

Two events happen, neither of which Harry planned for.

He's inspecting jars of spices at a stall, with Nausika at the next one over. The owner is giving him an assessing look, but Harry is paying too much attention to what the spices look like. He wonders, vaguely, what they all smell like, and maybe he could twist off a lid to check.

Every jar lid pops open, startling Harry and the owner. The owner yelps, and Harry cries out in shock. Several jars try to leap into the air, rattling. But before they can do so, they shut and quit shaking. Nausika is suddenly there in front of him, checking him over.

"Are you okay, Harry?"

Harry nods. "M'fine, Mum."

Her eyes widen, and Harry realizes what he just said. 

"Sorry." Harry blurts. 

"It's fine." The stall owner grumbled, looking up at the sky. "Was probably just a gust of wind."

Harry almost retorts that he was speaking to Nausika, not him, when she ushers him away from the stand. They are halfway back to Nausika's flat before Harry dares to say something.

"I'm really sorry, Nausika." he mumbles, voice thick. "I didn't mean to make you mad."

She turns around, and she doesn't look angry, much to Harry's relief. "You didn't make me mad, Harry." She says gently. "I was spooked, and more than a little...."

"Not happy?" Harry asks timidly. He won't cry, he swears.

"Try for honored, child." she says, her face slightly redder under her darker complexion. Harry realizes that she's -embarrassed-. "Or really touched. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I won't bring it up again."

Harry quickly shakes his head, all of a frantic five-year-old. "No! I don't mind, really!" 

"Okay then," Nausika says, her voice gusty. "I'm going to put the groceries away, then I'm going to make us something to drink. All right?"

Harry nods, and they set off again. The trip is silent, and there is a new tension that Harry is confused by. But he's relieved that he didn't make her unhappy or uncomfortable. 

The back door of the shop is unlocked with a key when they arrive, and Nausika beckons Harry to follow her up a flight of stairs to her flat. The door for the rooms upstairs is solid looking, with a reddish-brown wood that smells faintly of something mellow and sweet. Carvings of geometric designs decorate the doorframe, reminding Harry of some of the pictures in his mythology book. Two men are carved into the doorframe as well, and he can see that they have wings on their ankles. Nausika lays her hand on the doorknob, and Harry can hear a low whine for a brief moment before she turns the knob and lets the both of them in.

The flat is different than Harry would have expected. The front room is separated from the rest of the flat by a wide arch, complete with a wardrobe, bench, and a tray on the floor Harry guesses is for shoes. The floor is a light color, with a glossy finish; the walls are a light purplish-grey that remind him of early mornings. Nausika goes further in, and Harry takes his time to look at the rest of the place. The wood floor has several rugs, most of light blues and soft yellow. A rocking chair with a giant basket full of balls of yarn sits beneath one window, with two bookshelves across from it. He hears sounds coming from his left, and sees Nausika putting things away in cupboards and the refrigerator. The kitchen has a table and chairs in the middle, and the counter wraps to hug the wall. 

"Would you like something to drink?" Nausika asks Harry, gesturing to a jug of milk in her hands.

"Yes, please."

She pours milk into two cups. Harry sits at the table, and Nausika slides him the glass of milk. "Thank you." says Harry. 

Nausika smiles. "You're welcome, hon."

The silence is slightly awkward as Harry takes an absent-minded sip of milk. Nausika is not drinking, but instead is staring at the cup she has in her hands. "So...." she begins. "Did you call me Mum on accident?"

Harry frowns, thoughtful. "No....."

"Then why call me 'Mum'?"

Harry puts his cup down. "You look at me, you make sure I'm fed, you care, and youmakemefeelsafe." he says in a rush. "A mother does that, right?"

"Oh." 

Harry watches Nausika, waiting for her to say anything else. She has a thoughtful look on her face, but her eyes are shining with something Harry can't describe. He fidgets, thinking that maybe he should be silent for now. Opening his mouth right now could be bad. Nausika is probably going to ask him something. It takes a while, but finally she wipes at her eyes, and looks Harry in the eye.

"Do you really wish to have a mother?" Nausika asks. Harry nods, biting his lip. 

Nausika takes a deep breath. "I've been thinking on this for a good bit, and a good kid like you needs someone." Her voice trembles as she says that, but she clears her throat to continue. "Would you like to live here? With me?"

Harry blinks, then the words sink in. Live here, in this sunny place with someone who cares for him? Loving someone, and being loved in return? 

"Ye..Y-yes?" Harry stutters out, tears beginning to fall. He tries to wipe them away, but they keep falling. "I-I don't have a mum, but I'd like one!"

Nausika furiously wipes her eyes again, but she is smiling. Harry doesn't know what to do at this point, so he just lets the tears fall. But he does go over to Nausika. "Please, Nausika. Would you be my mum?"

She smiles, her eyes overly bright. "I would love to, Harry."

It takes a bit, longer than Harry would like, for Mrs. Beasly to put together the needed paperwork. Then Nausika had to provide papers that said that she was a British citizen, and it only takes three weeks for everything to be approved. But to Harry's five-year-old mind it took an -eternity-. Nausika only laughs and says that Harry's just being impatient.

"But three weeks?" Harry squeaked. "All they have to do is find paper and look at it!"

Nausika sighs. "That's how beauracracy works, hon. I think it's to make people squirm." Harry giggles as Mrs. Beasly rolls her eyes.

He shows her his usual wandering spots during her visits, including one at Charing Cross road. Nausika chuckles, but Harry never catches what she says. They go looking for things, like a bed for his room, and things he might need for the coming school year. Harry was puzzled when they didn't get any bedding, but Nausika only winked and told him it was taken care of. She also got several well-turned, wide ash planks with the mattress they got, but Harry couldn't actually guess what they would be used for. 

No matter what, any items bought would be carried out with ease. Harry would inevitably become distracted as they walked, and when he turned back the items would be gone. He gave Nausika an accusatory look when it happened for the third time. "How?" He demanded.

Nausika winked, her expression pure mischief. "Magic."

Harry huffed and dropped the subject. But he tried to keep his eyes on Nausika at all times, and nothing he did ever made the mattress and ash planks reappear. 

It wasn't until the papers were approved and his belongings packed and he and Nausika were on their way back to her flat on July 31st, 1986, that Harry wondered.

Did his new mum actually tell him the complete truth, or was it a lark?


	2. Autumn Leaves of '86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which, Harry adjusts and learns new things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeee! Thanks everybody, I didn't know this would be so popular!

It was different coming back to the shop and the sunny flat above it, knowing that he won't need to leave at the end of the day. Harry is excited, and more than a little wary. What was going to be different, now that this was his home?

They come in through the back, go up the stairs, and are faced with the door and its peculiar carvings. Instead of opening the door, Nausika sets down her share of Harry's things and beckons Harry forward. Puzzled, Harry sets his things down, too.

"This is important," Nausika says, waving her hand at the door. "Place your hand on the door so it recognizes you."

Harry gave her an odd look. Why was this important? A door's a door, but he humored her and placed his hand on the door. To his surprise, three things happened. The carvings of Hermes moved from their spots on the door frame to the door itself, and Harry sees that their eyes glittered like black beads. Then the door grow warm under his hand, and Harry has the sense of something active humming in the door. 

His hand started to glow, and Harry feels a peculiar sensation of warmth blooming in his chest. His hand stops glowing after a couple of heartbeats, and Harry carefully withdraws his hand. He looks up at Nausika, very confused now.

She gathers up the things she set down, and nods to the door. "I'll explain when we're inside." 

Harry bundles up his stuff and follows. The flat hasn't changed much since he was last in here, during that fateful shopping trip. But the flat is now dusky instead of bright, and Nausika leads him down a hall. Harry sees three doors, two on the right and one on the left. Another set of stairs goes up to another floor, but Harry doesn't get to see where they go. Instead, Nausika opens the door to what's going to be his new room. 

The now infamous Disappearing Mattress and bed frame is assembled and in one corner, and the floor is covered with soft, sea-green carpet. A dresser made of some dark wood is placed against the wall opposite of the bed, and a small bookshelf beside it. Harry was awestruck, for everything in here looked lively but very soft. He sets his stuff down, and walks in to inspect everything. The drawers are empty, but smell of something nice and slightly wild. The bed is very springy, and doesn't threaten to collapse out from under him at the slightest move. He looks up, and Nausika is smiling from the doorway.

"Like it?" She asks, her voice warm and gentle and slightly anxious. 

"Uh-huh!" Harry says, "Are you coming in?"

"Only if you want me to." Nausika says, "It's your space, after all."

Harry was amazed. He got this entire room to himself? St. Christopher's had placed him in a room with three other boys, and he had never been too comfortable with sharing the room with them. Often they were noisy in their sleep, and he never slept that deeply since the Dursley's.

"Really?" Harry says, "The whole thing?"

Nausika nods. "I'm going to set this," she lifts the bundle to draw Harry's attention to it, "down, and go start supper. Okay?"

Harry nods, and he begins to shove his clothes into drawers. He could get used to this, he supposes.

He's done with putting his things away rather quickly, and Harry wonders about what else is in the flat. There was another set of stairs just down the hall, and he had spotted bookshelves in the living room. He also wanted to know about the door, and also about other things like the Disappearing Mattress, so he walked out of his room. 

_Hreeeh?_

Harry whirls around, startled. What made that noise? He approaches the stairs to the unknown upper floor, head cocked to listen for more sounds. The sound repeats, and Harry sees the biggest cat he had ever seen trot down the stairs and pad towards the kitchen. It gives him an appraising look as it passes, and Harry only stares after it. Nausika is setting a pot on the table when the oddly large cat saunters up to her and makes that weird dry sound again. Nausika shakes her head at the cat, and sets the pot down. "Silly Bob. This ain't for you."

Harry cautiously comes closer, wary that this cat came up to his waist and its paws were huge. It gave him another look, then looked up at Nausika with an inquisitive sound. 

Nausika grins, and kneels down to the cat's (Bob must be his name, Harry thinks) level. "Bob, this is Harry, my son." She motions Harry closer. "Harry, this is my familiar, Bob the bobcat."

"Familiar?" Harry says, sounding the unknown word out. "What's that?"

"A creature that holds a special bond with a magician." Nausika says, her voice gentle. "I provide companionship and food, and Bob protects the flat from danger."

Harry blinks, the truth becoming very clear very quickly. The Disappearing Mattress, the door, and the bedframe. The odd shimmer in the cloth that Harry saw the first time he met Nausika, who said that she had put all of the clothes together. "You're a magician?" He asks, excited. "You can do magic?"

Nausika nods gravely. "I can, Harry."

Something horrible dawns on Harry. "You're not going to fatten me up to eat, like the witch did to Hansel and Gretel, are you?" He asks, as serious as a six-year-old can be.

Nausika's mouth twitches, but she shakes her head. "No Harry, I'm not going to do that. Magicians don't eat kids."

Harry huffs with relief. "Good, 'cause I'd probably taste like rubbish."

He definitely sees Nausika's mouth twitch again, before she places her hand over her mouth. "We should eat before it gets cold." She says. "And don't give any to Bob, he shouldn't be eating pasta anyway."

Harry is surprised by the delicious aroma of tomato sauce, pasta, and green salad. He waits to eat, though, until Nausika starts. He doesn't notice Nausika's eye on him as he helps himself to lunch. Bob makes more noise, and Harry looks down. The large cat is staring at him with wide eyes, and makes that dry rasping noise again. 

"She said no, you know." Harry says sagely. "If Nausika told me no, I'd do what she said." Harry hears a choked noise, but he's pretty sure it was Bob. The cat yawns, and finally lays down at Harry's feet, where he begins to emit a bone-rattling purr. Harry giggles when Nausika rolls her eyes. She peers under the table, presumably at him. 

"Adopted Harry too?" She chuckles. "Decided he's staying, huh?"

Another raspy sound came from under the table, sounding exasperated. Nausika grins and gets back to lunch.

"So what do magicians do?" Harry asks suddenly. "Are you a witch as well?"

Nausika shakes her head. "Witch only denotes if a body's a girl or not. Magician is the more accurate thing to say."

"So you're just a magician? What do magicians do?"

"Depends on what they're good at." Nausika explains, shrugging. "I'm a weaver, because I'm good at it. My brothers have different jobs that they apply their magic in ways that they can. The same goes for my mama and daddy."

Harry is curious now. "What do your parents do?"

Nausika seems to think on this a bit. "Mama's a weaver. She's the one that taught me the basics. Daddy's job is...different."

"Different how?"

"He finds lost things." Nausika says, and Harry gets the impression that it isn't the entire truth. "Pierre's a traveling school teacher, and Merle is in the same trade as Daddy. I took on the magical learning to become a weaver after I turned fourteen, and spent the next five years with my mama's family in Greece."

Harry mulls this over. If Nausika's magical, and her brothers and parents are too, then they can't be the only ones in the world like that. He can also remember the shimmer that he saw play on his clothes if he looked at them out of the corner of his eyes.

Maybe he's magical, too?

* * *

Life settles after Harry arrives at the flat. He isn't all that stunned to see small feats of magic performed in front of him, but seeing things float through the air and into Nausika's hands does confuse him at first. He asks her why she would use magic for something like house-cleaning or something as simple as cooking. She explains how it saves time, and keeps her from being too busy to focus on the shop downstairs. She even takes him down there, to show him how every thing works.

Harry had never seen so much cloth in his life. It's all rolled neatly around wooden dowels and put on long shelves, and Harry tries to look closer so he can see that shimmer of magic again in the cloth. His eyes start to itch, because that shimmer is -everywhere-, and he can feel it in the air. Nausika laughs when Harry tells her so.

"Why not?" She replies, "I weave with magic, so there's going to be a lot of magic around. But you can't go around telling anybody."

Harry is puzzled. "Why?"

Nausika scowls, which Harry is learning takes quite a bit to make her do that. "If you ask anybody else around here, they'll tell you it's because of the witch-burnings and hunts during medieval times. Even if that was true once, it isn't really true now."

"So..."

"So now it's more to keep magical people to themselves. We can see things they can't, and non-magical people would be asking for the solutions to all their problems, even if we can provide all the answers." sighs Nausika as she adjusts a bolt of fabric on a shelf, "Nothing's more disappointing than thinking you found the answer, and you haven't. Besides, most people now would deny there ever being magic at all."

Harry can understand that. People didn't like different things sometimes. His former relatives are a good example. 

"Can I learn magic?" Harry asks, suddenly shy. It would be just his luck if he turned out to not actually be magical. 

"I don't see why not." Nausika says, "You'll need to, anyway."

"Why?"

"Remember the market stall?" 

Harry blanched. "That was me?!"

Nausika nods. "It was. Every kid that's magical has accidents like that every once in a while. It's nothing to worry your head over, Harry. I can help you learn how to control your magic, if you want."

Harry nods. If magic is supposed to be a secret, then he's got to learn how to use his magic! To think he'd give it all away!

"Yes please!"

"Okay then!" Nausika exclaims, clapping her hands together. Harry giggled at her dramatics. "Tomorrow, we begin!"

The next day, Harry is taught the reason why he had done the amazing feat of opening all the spice jars at a market stall. "Just because I wanted to?"

"Intent is the key, yes." Nausika says, folding clothes by hand as Harry sits on the rug. Bob, deciding that Harry was his new favorite person, had curled up next to him. "At this point, speaking your intent in what you are trying to do is for the best, so there isn't any mix-ups."

"Okay, but how?"

The rest of Harry's summer consists of learning how magic works, and lots of exploring his new home. Nausika lets him wander around outside while she works in the shop, and Harry makes even more friends in the animals that live in the parks around the shop. He also gets to meet the other three people who work for Nausika in the shop, and is pleased to find that they, too, are magicians. 

Jericho Belby, Kendra Dunbar, and Tristan Siegfried are more that happy to show Harry things they learned in the magical world. Harry loved the stories about sports on brooms, magical creatures, and talks about spells and potions. Nausika not only teaches Harry, but is also teaching the other three about magical weaving. Harry is surprised to find out that weaving apparently doesn't just apply to cloth and clothing. He's allowed to sit in the workroom when Nausika is teaching Tristan, Jericho, and Kendra how to create things using thread as a tool. Harry is also intrigued about the wands all three of them carry, and Tristan shows him how each wand is specific to the user. Tristan frowns when he says it's incredibly difficult to not use a wand, as it acts as a focus for magic.

"Not many people are good at wandless magic." The young man states. Harry doesn't miss the odd look that Tristan sends towards his mother, who is showing Jericho something involving threads and knot tying. "It takes a strong wizard or witch to do magic wandless."

"So Mum's really strong?" Harry asks innocently. 

Tristan shrugged. "I haven't the foggiest. I've never really gone out of the country before, so I can't give you an answer. Now, what's the correct spell for summoning things?"

Nausika laughs when Harry gets that frown on his face, because his rudimentary Latin lessons tell him that their Latin is awful and -wrong-, but it's rude to point that out. 

"It gets worse, trust me." She says at dinner one evening. "I just shrug and carry on." Harry nods and gets back to his food. He is rapidly becoming accustomed to spicy foods, as Nausika is fond of making dishes from where she grew up. Harry particularly likes beignets, as they are sweet and light and fluffy. 

Another thing that happens that Harry isn't particularly prepared for is that with love, food, and the freedom to wander to his heart's content, he's growing. By the time school starts again, he has grown a half-inch. Nausika lets down the hems of his trousers and the long-sleeved shirts on his school clothes as the weather cooled.

School was starting soon, and Harry both dreaded and anticipated it.

Despite all the dread, it's not too terrible when he's gone at school. He learns about stuff, and Nausika is there to help him with homework when he gets home. Bob purrs and rasps at him when he gets home, and there's more interesting books at home, and magic. But he misses the care-free days of talking to snakes and wandering around. 

Soon the trees turn into explosions of warm colors, then lose all of their leaves as winter approaches. Harry's school decides to put on a winter play before the Christmas holidays, and Harry recites his lines to anyone who will listen. Jericho can be persuaded to listen to his lines if Harry also tells him how things like technology works. Harry never knew it, but magic often circumvents the need to use modern conveniences. Harry asks if the magical world had toilets, because those needed electricity to work.

Turns out most rely on gravity, though some do use electricity. Harry is done learning about toilets now, thanks. Jericho agrees, and Kendra and Tristan nod fervently.

During the last week of the term, Harry and Nausika are walking home when Nausika asks Harry a question.

"How do you feel about traveling?"

Harry blinks. "Depends, Mum. Why?"

Nausika heaves a weary sigh. "My mama and daddy invited us to spend Christmas with them in New Orleans. They haven't seen me in a while, and letters only do so much." she explains, "They also want to see you, as you're a grandchild of theirs now."

Harry knew, logically, that Nausika had parents.That made them his grandparents. But there was still a bit of disconnect between the thought and actual reality of it. "That's in America, right?" Harry asks. "How will we get there?"

"By plane, probably." Nausika says. "I'd travel by broom, but I don't have one. And I don't recall the Atlantic Ocean as being friendly."

"Okay!" Harry exclaims. "I've never been on a plane before!" The rest of of the walk home is talking about brooms and how they work. Harry is excited by the though that people can actually fly, and disappointed that they didn't get to use one. Nausika points out that flying over the Atlantic by broom wasn't something you did without a great deal of preparation. Falling off into the cold ocean doesn't sound very appealing, after that explanation.

The holidays arrive after the nerve-wracking thing that is the Christmas play, and Harry wakes up to Nausika shaking his shoulder the next day. He blearily looks around for his glasses, and carefully puts them on. "What's going on?"

"We need to get going," Nausika whispers. "The plane leaves in thirty minutes." 

Harry quickly dresses and grabs his winter coat and bag. He rushes out into the living room, where Nausika is say good-bye to Bob. He rasps and purrs at the both of them, then they're out the door and outside in the frigid air.

"How are we going to get there?" Harry asks.

"Using a spell." Nausika replies, shouldering her bag. "Here, hold my hand."

Harry does, and Harry hears Nausika whisper, "-Iter Facio-!" and soon Harry feels like the ground shifted under his feet and their standing in an alcove outside an airport. Harry stumbled, but Nausika kept him from falling. People, even though it was hardly dawn, were hustling through the double-doors with luggage in hand.

Nausika takes Harry's hand. "We better get going," she says, "Our plane's leaving in an hour, and we're not going to miss it." 

They go into the airport, and Harry has never seen so many people rushing about in a building. An odd, bitter smell accommpanies the experience, and Harry had only smelled something like it in the rare mornings that he got up at the same time as his mother. Harry looks around, and can spot more than a few travel cups of coffee in travelers' hands. Harry is more glad than ever that his mother is holding his hand, as he would be very lost in no time at all. But Nausika manages to navigate them through the throng at security, and to the check-in counter at the gate, where Harry is still trying to see everything around him. There's men and women walking around with dark blue uniforms with yellow piping, and people smoking cigarettes while waiting for their flights. Harry tries to see more, but Nausika gently tugs his hand and they are soon boarding the plane and finding their seats. Harry's all but bouncing up and down at the prospect of flight. 

"Ok, ok," Nausika says, laughing softly, "Settle down now, or I'm taking the window seat." 

Harry settles down quickly, enough that Nausika chuckles and pulls two hankerchiefs wrapped-bundles out of her coat pocket. Harry gets one of the best breakfasts he's ever had in a turnover stuffed with cheese and sausage and chopped bits of pepper and tomato. The plane taxies down the runway, and Harry feels an odd force press against his body as the lines outside turned to blurs, then the ground is shrinking and the clouds get closer.

Nausika leans over to watch the clounds go by as they fly over the ocean. "Louisiana, ho!" She whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Bobcats make a raspy sounding whine instead of meowing. They also can truly purr.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Nausika is named for the Phaeacian princess from _The Odyssey_ that brought Odysseus to her home after he washed up on the beach, and not for the princess from Hayao Miyazaki's _Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind_.


End file.
